


ncruuk's Voyager 'fluff' one-shots (from the days of LiveJournal)

by ncruuk



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Community: femslash_fluff, F/F, imported from LJ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncruuk/pseuds/ncruuk
Summary: The consolidated collection of all my Voyager (mostly Janeway/Seven pairing, maybe a few 'gen' as well) 'fluff' one-shots written back in the day of LJ, mostly in the 'femslash_fluff' LJ community @kimly masterminded for me to have fun in, and for which I'm very, very grateful as without that, I'd not still be writing fic now.Each 'chapter' is its own one-shot.[With thanks to the original challengers and providers of visual inspiration (screencaps/icons) - I've tried to include credit wherever possible with the original LJ username.]N.B. These were written in 2006/7 - that's more than a decade ago, not to mention several hundred thousand words of writing ago....





	1. The Great Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The CHALLENGE:
> 
>  
> 
>  

"I do not understand...." began Seven, unsure what she was looking at, and even less sure why it should be prompting such laughter from Harry Kim.

"Some of Tom's 20th Century favourites can be rather obscure..." agreed Kathryn, thoroughly entertained with what she was watching, although taking care to conceal her mirth behind an appropriately 'Captain-esque' humoured interest expression: Starfleet Captains couldn't laugh hysterically, it was what they had first officers and Security Chiefs for....or Harry Kim.

"I mean, I do not understand the object of Lieutenant Paris' activity, nor why it is creating such noisy responses from Ensign Kim..." elaborated Seven, glancing towards Kathryn with something akin to Borg exasperation at the obviously relaxed Captain's inability to understand the ex-Borg's confusion.

"It's creating such a noisy response from Ensign Kim because he is trying to guess that Tom is miming the title of 'The Great Escape' which is a classic 20th century movie..." began Kathryn, throwing her right hand behind her head as she slumped into a more comfortable position on her ready room couch, at least, it would be more comfortable if Seven would shuffle a few inches closer so that Kathryn could use her as a back rest.

"For what purpose?" If the stubbornly pedantic and literal question hadn't been accompanied by the sudden and most welcome feeling of Seven's arm, which had previously been a decorous few inches from Kathryn's body, now resting between Kathryn's back and the couch, Kathryn might have been tempted to issue some sharp retort to her lover. Instead, as Kathryn relaxed into the discrete touch her lover provided, she found herself attempting to explain the concept of their current entertainment.

"The game, as you well know Seven," It was only the proximity of her Senior Staff that stopped Kathryn from calling Seven 'darling', "...is called Charades. The purpose is for someone to mime, using a combination of their imagination and some accepted gestures, the title of a book, movie or holovid or, if you're playing as a student at the Academy, a senior Professor or Admiral, with everyone else trying to guess. Tom is now miming his movie title, and Harry is trying to guess it..."

"But you already know it?"

"Yes..."

"So why don't you call it out as Mr Kim is attempting to do?" asked Seven, managing to refrain from pointing out that Kathryn's delayed calling was highly inefficient. Whilst she still ranked efficiency and effectiveness as the most important priorities, Seven had, with Kathryn's expert and most willing guidance, discovered that 'fun' could be very engaging and thoroughly worth pursuing in all it's glorious inefficiency, especially if it involved Kathryn and a day off....

"Because I don't want to win..." Even as Kathryn began to try explaining to Seven that she didn't want to win because she didn't wish to embarrass herself in front of the Senior Staff - sometimes, it just wasn't Captainly - Seven was moving away from Kathryn before announcing in her normal, clear voice.

"It is 'The Great Escape'," prompting looks of shock from all the Senior Staff, Kathryn included.

"How'd you guess Seven?" asked Harry, being the first to find his tongue.

"Mr Paris is a most effective exponent of this game..." observed Seven, enjoying seeing Tom's proud reaction, which only turned to confusion as Kathryn, picking up on the subtle inflection of her lover's phrasing, picked up the true meaning and started to try not to laugh: unfortunately, she failed.

"Captain?" Tom was confused, only to be enlightened by Tuvok of all people.

"I believe Seven was referring to your unusually well developed skills at mimicry and impersonation...." There was no mistaking the true meaning behind Tuvok's words - he was acknowledging the time Tom spent in the holodeck pretending to be Captain Proton, much to the amusement and despair (it depended whether she remembered having to 'be' Queen Arachnia) of Captain Janeway.

"Ah..." Unwilling to dwell on the insult, this being the Senior Staff Christmas Party after all, Tom refocused his attentions to Seven's correct guess, "...you do know what the penalty is for guessing correctly, right Seven?"

"I do not..." The implant drooped microscopically as Seven frowned in thought, before continuing, "...but explain and I will comply," she declared, absolutely convinced that Kathryn would not permit any penalties which were dangerous or harmful.

"You sure Seven?" Despite his youthful exuberance and sense of fun, Tom was fundamentally a nice guy who didn't like to hurt people, especially when, as in Seven's case, she didn't understand the rules of the game. The twin glares he was currently suffering from Captain Janeway and B'Elanna of course had nothing to do with his desire to suddenly be chivalrous and gentlemanly....

"Explain this 'penalty' Mr Paris..." If Seven's voice automatically slipped into the same phrasing and tone as 'Resistance is Futile' and 'You will be assimilated', everyone had the good grace not to comment.

"You're up next..."

"Up where?"

"Here, acting out something for us to guess...." Tom trailed off as he realised Seven had retreated into deep thought, before suddenly getting to her feet and striding to stand next to the helmsman.

"I do not know the gesture for my 'charade', but I believe you will be able to guess, if I understand how this game is played by Cadets correctly..." began Seven, before making the inter-galactic symbol for three words. Pausing for a moment, deliberately not looking at Kathryn, Seven deliberately slouched, shifted her weight onto her right leg, took a half step forwards with her left foot, before reaching behind her head and very swiftly releasing her hair before re-pinning it in a different style, although the effect from the front was sufficiently unchanged to be noticed by anyone other than Kathryn. Satisfied with her posture and hairstyle, Seven brought her right hand to her hip before pinching the bridge of her nose with her left hand and pivoting slowly on the heel of her left boot, revealing...

"THE BUN OF STEEL!" shouted Tom excitedly, only to suddenly choke on his shout as he realised what he said...

"Care to repeat that Ensign Paris?" asked Kathryn archly, in a tone that sounded far worse than her sparkling eyes suggested. Still, it would do Tom good to stew for a second.

"Uh, would it help if I said that was the nickname the junior staff had for your hairstyle back when we first arrived here?" asked Tom, wondering what he'd said that prompted his Captain's too rarely heard peal of laughter.

"Infinitely Tom, am I right B'Elanna?" asked the Captain, deliberately ignoring Seven before she asked an awkward question.

"Indeed Captain..." growled B'Elanna, glaring at her husband, who had come dangerously close to the wrong end of her not so ceremonial batleth...

"I am not imitating a small cake-like object made of metal Mr Paris..." interrupted Seven, suddenly feeling confused and left out.

"My apologies Seven, I should have explained my answer more formally...you were 'doing' the Captain?"

"You are correct Mr Paris...but I wish to change the penalty..." Seven's determined comment stopped Tom in his seat as he waited to hear what Seven's suggestion would be, "...I think the Captain is next..."

"Seven..." warned Kathryn, suddenly not liking the way her staff were looking expectantly at her....

"You did tell me it was 'The Great Escape' Kathryn..." teased Seven, inadvertently using her lover's given name, much to the interest of everyone except Tuvok.

"Seven..." Despite her tone, Seven could see that her lover's resistance to participation was beginning to crumble.

"Or would you prefer to explain to me what else 'Bun of Steel' could mean?" Even if her staff weren't astute enough at reading Seven's somewhat restrained body language, Kathryn was convinced that, based on her blushes, Tom's knowing smirk and Harry's grin, that everyone had just put two and two together and made four...

"Maybe I will play..." conceded Kathryn finally, stepping over her youngest officers who were sprawled out across the deck before pausing and announcing (Captain's privilege excluded her from making the little gesture), "...it's a movie...." before demonstrating, with the surprised but enthusiastic assistance from Seven.

"WoooHoooo...." wolf-whistled Tom, only to be abruptly shut up by his wife.

"Some Like It Hot?" suggested Harry nervously, thinking his Captain was suitably distracted at present not to bust him down to crewman as she expertly extracted Seven’s hair pins.

"It's A Wonderful Life?" offered Chakotay, grinning at seeing his friend and Captain finally relax in front of her closest staff.

"Isn't it?" agreed a now grinning Kathryn, ending the kiss she'd initiated with a very content Seven and settling back into her lover's embrace, before raising a glass she'd somehow managed not to drop and suggesting,

"A toast...to an amazing journey, with new discoveries made at every turn...to having a wonderful life, despite the strangest of circumstances..." To her immense pride and also relief, Kathryn was rewarded with her Senior Staff all scrabbling to their feet, including Neelix who, up until this point, had been looking slightly confused, and, as one, raising their glasses...it was indeed, on this Christmas night, light years from the Alpha Quadrant, time to rejoice and celebrate having, A Wonderful Life.....


	2. When a sportle meets a frottle....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I genuinely have no idea where this came from....oh, and can we please just accept that physics in the Delta Quadrant lets this happen please? Thank you *g*
> 
> CHALLENGE: Janeway/someone, Away Mission, Baseball Bat (it's the green thing)

The Astromeri were an interesting species, not favoured by the Borg due to their preference for low gravity environments and their enthusiastic, 'bouncy' personalities. It was very hard to assimilate someone who was jumping enthusiastically on the spot (to a height of probably a couple of metres due to the low gravity) whilst encouraging you to 'come play'. For six year old Naomi, and most of the crew of the Starship Voyager, they were a perfect species - fun loving, relaxed, and eager for any game proposed by anyone, including a rather unique adaptation of the old Earth game of 'baseball'.

Seven had tried to understand the Earth game, courtesy of one of Tom Paris' holodeck evenings, but had found it seriously lacking as a method of either physical exertion or entertainment, unlike the game of Velocity, which at least required rapid movement and no reliance on other people, who would invariably fail...in other words, Seven was not a fan of team sports. But equally, she was not a fan of disappointing Naomi.

"Please Seven....?"

"Have you asked for permission from your mother?" asked Seven, mindful, following a careful conversation with Captain Janeway, about the tricky matter of not undermining a mother's authority.

"She said I could do anything that you felt was suitable..." explained Naomi helpfully.

"What is the object of this 'game'?" asked Seven, considering the 'course' set out before them.

"To hit the orange thing with the green thing as far as you can..."

"For what purpose?"

"Hitting it further than anyone else!"

"I see..." Seven surveyed the 'course', which had targets and distance markers laid out, stretching for several hundred metres.

"...Naomi, do not jump so high..." stated Seven, automatically reaching out to 'catch' Naomi, who was enjoying the 'lighter' atmosphere and the ability to jump really, really high if she tried really, really hard.

"Can I try?"

"Are you sure this game is designed for children of your stature?" For Seven, the concept of 'youth' was a difficult one to assess, with Naomi being the only young child she'd ever really had contact with, the Borg ‘Children’ aside. As a result, whereas someone else might have been concerned about Naomi's age, for Seven, the limiting factor was always Naomi's height, with the Borg recalling the numerous times Naomi had had to be told to 'wait until she was taller' before she could explore certain areas of the ship.

"He's short..." explained Naomi loudly, pointing to a small gentleman, who was swiping at the orange thing with his green thing in a highly enthusiastic but ultimately unproductive fashion.

"Indeed, quite short..." agreed Seven, discretely scanning the set up with her cortical node, satisfied to discover that the orange and green things seemed to come in a variety of 'weights' which presumably meant that Naomi could use some equipment designed for an individual such as her.

"Can I?"

"Very well..." Seven strode over to the game 'keeper' and procured the equipment and tokens for them both to have a go.

"Remember Seven, the idea's to hit it really, really far..." exclaimed Naomi, before excitedly swinging her green thing and connecting rather spectacularly with her orange thing, sending it considerably further than the short gentleman had.

"You show commendable skill Naomi Wildman," declared Seven seriously, considering her own orange and green things.

"Your go Seven...bet you can't hit it out of the sky...." It was an innocent child's challenge, not meant to be serious, but was heard by the short gentleman, who immediately became very animated, bouncing some three metres in his excitement.

"Oh, do try...it is possible, but not often seen..."

"Explain..."

"It is possible, if the contact between green and orange is perfectly aligned with the line of escape..." As the gentleman continued, Seven's brain began calculating, based on what Voyager's scans had shown, exactly what the exit velocity would be for the orange thing, based on the physical properties it seemed to be manifesting. To her surprise, with a large amount of Borg-enhanced hand-eye co-ordination and physical strength, it was actually possible...

"Very well, Naomi, please stand there."

"Yes Seven..." agreed Naomi, 'bouncing' over to the spot Seven had identified would be a suitable spectating position, accompanied by their new friend and authority on all things Astromeri.

Taking a moment to consider what she was about to do, Seven adopted what she deemed would be a suitable stance and, at the appropriate moment, swung her green thing....

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was easy to forget that Kathryn Janeway knew how to fly a shuttle, rather well in fact. When you were Captain of a Starship, the opportunity to 'Loop the Loop' didn't come by very often, and never without the small matter of impending alien attack, unless you were visiting the Astromeri, whose favourite pastime, after it seemed, that weird baseball type game Tom had been babbling about, was 'playing' in rather nippy little shuttle-pods.

Perfectly spherical, with thrusters in all directions, these little pods were highly manoeuvrable and able to be 'bounced' off the atmosphere if you got trajectory and power correct. With a little bit of coaching from one of the local champions, Kathryn had quickly perfected the technique and had spent a happy couple of hours hurtling around the various 'race tracks' and obstacle courses that the Astromeri had created, doing all manner of things that, if he could have seen her, would have probably made Tuvok's ears drop off in shock. In short, she was behaving exactly as the cockiest Federation pilot would...and loving every second of it.

Suddenly though, the shuttle’s controls changed from their purple colour to a bright green, and a public address system type announcement echoed excitedly through the pod.

"Home Run, Home Run, Home Run.....INCOMING!"

Before Kathryn had time to understand what was happening, her controls stopped glowing green and started flashing orange, matching the colour of the orange thing now sitting on the controls....wait, an orange thing?

"What on..." Startled, Janeway instinctively reached for the tricorder she'd had the prudence to bring, only for the tannoy to burst into life again.

"Pod Janeway the victor, auto-pilot engaged for landing and celebration."

Confused at what was happening and annoyed at having her 'fun' in space cut short, Kathryn finally yielded to her competitive streak and allowed herself to be excited about what she'd 'won'. She didn't have to wait long - the autopilot didn't bother taking the slow, gentle descent. Soon, she was standing outside her pod, looking at the equally confused expression on her Astrometric Officer's face.

"Do you have the sportle?" asked the short gentleman, bouncing in all directions to see around Janeway and into her shuttle-pod.

"Excuse me?"

"He means do you have Seven's orange thing Captain?" explained Naomi, equally eager, although managing to contain her bouncing to a more respectable three feet or so.

"Excuse me?"

"I participated in the 'baseball' game Captain, the 'sportle' is an orange sphere - it is a moment of great excitement if a Frottle (the local name for the shuttle-pod) 'catches' a sportle which has attained escape velocity."

"Thank you Seven..." Now understanding, Kathryn retreated into her Frottle and re-emerged with Seven's Sportle, which was now humming...

"Your Sportle Seven..."

"Thank you Captain." Satisfied everything was now explained, Seven prepared to return to her original task, which was supervising Naomi's enjoyment of the games park.

"Your welcome Seven...." replied Kathryn, equally content, now that little task was complete, to get back to her flying, only for her Chief Helmsman and most of her Bridge Crew to bound up, along, it seemed, with half the local population.

"We heard a Frottle caught a Sportle?" gasped Tom, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yes, the Captain caught Seven's sportle in her frottle..." explained Naomi, wondering why half the Senior Staff almost snorted with laughter.

"Have you completed the celebration yet?" asked their host, equally excited.

"No, they have not..." reported the short gentleman, attracting the attention of Seven.

"What celebration?"

"The successful Frottler must unite with the Sportler...that your Sportle and Frottle connected is a thing of great rareness and represents a powerful sub-conscious connection between Frottler and Sportler which the game has chosen to reveal. You must acknowledge this bond..."

"Oh..." Seven couldn't think of anything else to say; really, she couldn't.

"Bond how?" asked Kathryn cautiously.

"A kiss of no less than thirty of your seconds would equate to our bonding...unless you have flocci and gills?" enquired their host politely, referring to the strange organs the Astromeri had which were quite unlike anything Voyager had ever really come across before - as Seven had put it, 'flocci on the forehead is not a feature the Borg felt should be assimilated'.

"That's some kiss!" exclaimed Tom, unable to stop himself, earning him a thump from B'Elanna.

"Ambassador, I'm not sure..." began Kathryn, glancing at Seven and recognising the look of panic she was sure her eyes were also revealing, only for Naomi to completely derail everything, by declaring loudly,

"Good thing you practiced with the Captain yesterday evening Seven..."

prompting Kathryn's cheeks to suddenly match the rich red of her command uniform as her Senior Staff's jaws all simultaneously dropped.

"Kathryn? I do believe that the 'cat' is out of the bag..."

"Yes Seven..."

"Kathryn?"

"Yes Seven?"

"I am thankful it is you who caught my Sportle..."

"And I'm glad it was your sportle too..." agreed Kathryn, glancing at the assembled crowd who seemed to be incapable of moving on until the 'celebration' was completed.

"Seven?"

"Yes Kathryn?"

"I think it might be diplomatic if we 'celebrate'..."

"You wish me to kiss you for thirty one seconds?"

"Give or take a few, yes...."

"You are sure? A proper kiss?" Seven sought clarification - this was not a good moment for confusion.

"Unless you've grown gills since this morning darling?" teased Kathryn, deciding that, today at least, maybe the Delta Quadrant wasn't so bad.

"I have not..." replied Seven indignantly, before deciding that conversation was overrated....she had something far more interesting to do for the next thirty one seconds...no, make that one minute three.....


	3. A well developed vocabulary

 

"These garments are ineffective and...." Seven paused whilst she searched her memory bank for a word that would convey her displeasure at having to wear the garments in front of her, "...gplartgyth" she enunciated carefully, remembering to add the rising inflection to the 'gy' of the third syllable, finally picking the word that suited her. That it was from the language of species 413, a species with limited distinctiveness that was of no use to the Collective, and whose home world was in the deepest corner of the Gamma Quadrant, far from any space the Federation had explored was, entirely irrelevant. As an adjective, it worked.

"Excuse me?" On hearing the strange noise from the ex-Borg, Kathryn Janeway had stopped what she was doing.

"I was commenting on the clothing I am required to wear," explained Seven coolly, raising an almost impertinent implant at her Captain.

"That noise..." queried Janeway, using her left hand to gesture her question, her right instinctively reaching for the bridge of her nose, in an attempt to stall the headache that could only be brought on by Seven being 'difficult'.

"Was not a noise, I said 'gplartgyth'"

"And that means?" asked Kathryn, resigning herself to having a full conversation on this. It was bad enough that she could swear in 17 languages, but Seven, she had proudly informed Kathryn once that the Borg had assimilated the swear words of over 10,000 dialects, although not all were repeatable by non-aquatic humanoids. Gills provided a certain range of inflection not easily imitated by a conventional human larynx.

"Strangely shaped, brightly coloured garment."

"It does?" It was hard with Seven, you never knew if she was reciting genuine Borg knowledge or involving you in some elaborate hoax.

"Species 413 are a very precise race, their vocabulary is very wide ranging," replied Seven indignantly.

"I see..." And, strangely, Kathryn did see. She thought back to all her mission reports she'd written involving the Ferengi - now, having a single word to describe their brightly coloured inefficient garments, that were so often the wrong size or shape for her to wear (they had always struggled to cope with the fact that she was a female who refused to go nude) would have made the report writing process so much easier...until she had to deliver the report verbally.

"Tell me the news not the weather..." she muttered dryly, noticing the front of her tunic. It wasn't Seven's fault that, in order to get the guttural inflections perfect, a degree of 'hacking' had to be performed - if anything it was probably Kathryn's fault, for standing so close to the blonde.

"I do not follow Captain..." began Seven, rapidly consulting her knowledge of English colloquialisms as she watched Kathryn brush her tunic down and wipe her hand on her uniform.

"Not to worry Seven...so, species 413, local to round here?" Not a fan of being petty, Kathryn mentally kicked herself from bringing up the point, before distracting Seven onto something else.

"No, they are in the Gamma Quadrant, beyond the Dominion Empire. A most unremarkable species..."

"Apart from their vocabulary..."

"Indeed Captain - they are a very talkative species. The Borg found them most....noisy..."

"How inconvenient for them..." countered Janeway, pulling on her own native outdoor clothing, which had been sent up to them for the away team to wear, prompting Seven to actually pout.

"I refuse to wear them, my biosuit and nanoprobes will adapt to the winter climate without problem..."

"But you will hardly blend in Seven..." replied Janeway, in a tone the Borg recognised all too well. It was as good as the Borg's 'Resistance is Futile'...

"Very well...but I will not wear that..." declared Seven, pointing to the remaining garment, the one which she had described as "gplartgyth".

"Seven...." Kathryn's tone held a note of warning, but was accompanied by a tender hand placed on Seven's now wool covered chest, signalling to the blonde that the conversation had switched from professional to personal.

"Yes Kathryn?"

"I thought you wanted to build a snowman with real snow..." began Kathryn, recalling Seven and Naomi's excitement on the holodeck when they'd tried that particular activity.

"Yes, and make a 'snow angel' with you..."

"Then you must wear them..."

"Kathryn..." Reaching the end of her tether, Kathryn snatched up her own 'gplartgyth' garment and snapped them on her head, before saying, in her best Captain's voice (the one they all said 'energise' or 'mark' in),

"For God Sake's Seven, just wear the damn ear muffs!"

Sensing defeat, Seven obediently, if reluctantly, put her fluffy pink ear muffs on her head. Successfully concealing her amusement at how cute her lover looked, and how grateful she was to their hosts that, as a leader, she got demure black ear muffs, Kathryn gestured for Seven to lead the way to the transporter room....this, she had to hope, was something the Doctor got a picture of...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the challenge was 'ear muffs' but honestly? I can't entirely remember...


	4. Oink!

"Seven?"

"Yes Captain?"

"What are you doing?"

"I am scanning the space immediately surrounding Voyager with this adapted tricorder," replied Seven with her usual logic and literalism, which, if Kathryn Janeway had been prone to eye rolling, would have been the perfect trigger statement.

"For what reason?"

"To ascertain if a particular phenomenon, recorded by the Borg three centuries ago is still present in this region of space." Again with a precise answer, although this time, Captain Janeway's curiosity was sparked by the cool statement, rather than her annoyance.

"A particular phenomenon? That's unspecific of you Seven..."

"I have located it...it is a shame I cannot show you on the astrometrics lab viewscreen..." declared Seven with slight dejection in her tone even as she transferred the referencing to the workstation in Cargo Bay 2 for Captain Janeway's perusal.

"What am I looking for?" asked Kathryn, leaning on the console and looking at a rather standard patch of empty space. What was Seven looking at?

"It will come..." remarked Seven, smugly.

"What will..." Kathryn's jaw dropped mid question as the view changed to quite simply, the strangest phenomenon she had ever seen, in space or not.

"Is that?" she stuttered, completely bemused.

"A flying pig? Yes. The Borg found them most incompatible with assimilation, despite their uniqueness..." Seven paused to consider the sight before them as the first pig, which was a little larger than a small shuttle, was joined by another pig who promptly engaged the former in a spirited game of tag.

*Bridge to Captain Janeway...*

"Janeway here..." Her response was immediate and automatic, although her gaze remained transfixed on the creatures.

*We're seeing something strange off the port bow...*

"Don't tell me Mr Kim, flying pigs?"

*Yes Ma'am...*

"I'm seeing them too...Seven assures me they're perfectly harmless..." responded Kathryn, glancing at the report Seven had quickly pulled up for her which identified that the only risk the pigs posed to Voyager was...

"...just don't let them make Voyager 'It' Mr Kim..."

*It Captain?*

"This may be the Delta Quadrant Harry, but I'm not letting my ship get involved in a school yard game of tag..." explained Kathryn, her explanation to her junior officer trailing off as the second pig 'tagged' the first pig in exactly the manner Seven's report had suggested...with a big kiss on the snout!

*Understood Captain...* agreed Harry, watching with amusement as he tried to imagine where the pigs might think Voyager's snout or mouth was...

"Very good Mr Kim, Janeway out." Having closed the comm link with her command, Kathryn returned her focus to her silent companion.

"Why were you looking for the pigs Seven?" she asked, curious. It wasn't the normal thing she would expect Seven to be interested by.

"I wanted to show them to you..."

"Why?"

"Because I understood 'flying pigs' to be an important euphemism for an unlikely event's timeframe..." It took Kathryn a moment to unravel what Seven was saying.

"Oh, you mean when someone uses the phrase 'and pigs are flying past the window' as a sarcastic response to a suggestion for an action?" asked Kathryn, wincing at the clumsy use of the phrase but struggling to work out a better clarification.

"Indeed..." The look in Seven's eye suddenly made Kathryn realise there was rather more to this conversation than she'd thus far realised.

"Was there a particular conversation that brought up flying pigs?"

"Yes...Mr Paris referenced them 231 days ago when he used my kissing you as an example of an extremely unlikely and improbably event..."

"Your kissing me?" Kathryn's collar suddenly felt rather tight as 6 feet of magnificent blonde stepped into her personal space, the console behind her restricting her ability to escape backwards...

"Yes...he claimed that it would only happen 'when pigs were flying across Voyager's bow'..." which they certainly were right now, thought Kathryn, wondering whether she should be thanking Tom or demoting him for that comment. Seven was getting awfully close...

"Ah..." Licking suddenly dry lips, Kathryn asked hoarsely, "...so you found some flying pigs?" Never let it be thought that Seven was anything but inefficient or lacking in thoroughness…

"Yes..." And, by way of further explanation, Seven dipped her head and pressed a small kiss to Kathryn's lips.

"Ah?" asked Kathryn, surprised, breathless, startled...yet eager to tangle her fingers in that glorious blonde hair and kiss again, with more passionate intentions...

"Resistance is futile..." teased Seven gently, before she elaborated her plan on how to overcome any resistance (there was none from Kathryn on this issue…) with a kiss that met and exceeded all of Kathryn's requirements and desires...right down to the toe curling, heart stopping intensity criteria which she'd always aspired to experience but had reluctantly presumed was only possible in her novels. Soon, all rational thought stopped as Seven suddenly discovered a new delight to kissing - being kissed by your partner with equal passion and enthusiasm...at length....

 

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, over Voyager's gleaming bow, two bright pink, enthusiastic pigs flew across space, chasing each other in a game of tag....there were days when it was good to be caught in the Delta Quadrant....


	5. Huh? Did I miss something?

Tossing the last of her completed padds further up the couch, Kathryn Janeway tipped her head back to rest on the top of the couch back, finally relieved that maybe, this shift was over. It wasn't that she didn't like her job, but sometimes...well, put it this way, it was a lot easier being Captain if you were in the Alpha Quadrant and you could discipline crewmen by either dropping them in the brig or shipping them off to another posting. In the Delta Quadrant though...well, it was just fortunate that she was a fan of community rehabilitation.

It wasn't anyone's fault, she thought with unusual determination, being normally eager to find who or what the trigger point was when it came to unravelling holodeck brawls, but this time, she genuinely didn't want to know, for fear that she might loose all sense of command composure, although whether the loss would be due to hysterics or hormones was another matter.

Before her surprisingly well structured and lucid inner monologue could continue, the ready room door chime sounded, saving her from that particular, un-Captain-like philosophical discussion.  
  
"Enter!"  
  
"Seven! This is a surprise..."  
  
"This is a bad time Captain, I will return..." declared Seven abruptly, her cortical node recording the flushed features and shallow breathing, as well as the near horizontal positioning of the Captain's torso, all of which suggested that the Captain was not intending to receive visitors at this late hour.

"Stay Seven...." instructed Kathryn kindly, gesturing towards the more upright chairs by her desk, which she knew Seven found more comfortable to sit in.  
  
"You are in a state of disarray..." declared Seven, remaining rooted to the spot, noting now, as Kathryn gently shuffled upright, that the uniform tunic was open and pips had long been removed.  
  
"You do know how to compliment a lady on her appearance..." retorted Kathryn dryly, amused at how bold Seven was being this evening, the ex-Borg's social skills and awareness now being sufficiently developed that Kathryn knew that Seven knew that Kathryn knew that Seven knew what she was doing.

"I am stating fact. You are in direct violation of 17 Starfleet Uniform protocols, although I find it makes you look..." Seven paused as she found the words in her mind which seemed best suited to the observations she found herself now noting about Kathryn Janeway, "...attractive, relaxed and..." there was another pause as Seven selected her final word, "...human."  
  
"Attractive?" Kathryn missed the later compliments, including the strange one of being told by an ex-Borg that she looked human now her hair and uniform were messy, her brain stalled on the fact that this 6 foot plus, blonde with a body to die for which, despite all the Borg enhancements, the Doctor had proudly informed anyone who would listen, was all Annika Hansen and completely natural, was finding this exhausted Captain attractive?

"Indeed, I find you the most desireable humanoid on this vessel....as you find me the same," reported Seven confidently, finally placing her packages on Janeway's desk, leaving her hands free to rest behind her back where they were much more comfortable...and now crossed. It was a strange gesture, but one which Seven had learnt from Naomi, who had confidently informed the tall blonde that it was the only thing guaranteed to bring good luck, other than touching wood, which was not particularly easy to do in a duranium plated spaceship currently progressing at Warp.  
  
"Huh?" Kathryn, now standing before her local friendly Borg, was confused, flattered but confused. How the hell had this conversation started, and why couldn't it have happened when she was better prepared for it, preferrably by her getting advanced notice with some sort of departmental report?

"You are not participating in this discussion as you normally would..." remarked Seven dejectedly, picking up on Kathryn's confusion. As delightful as it was having Seven calling her attractive, experience had taught Kathryn it was rather unpleasant having a pouting, depressed ex-Borg on her vessel, requiring some action by her, not least because, now she'd re-engaged her brain, she was actually eager to discover how this conversation had started and, more importantly, eager to see how it ended....

"I'm sorry Seven, you just surprised me by bringing up this topic for discussion..." Seeking to move to safer topics just for a moment whilst she got past her urge to grab Seven and make passionate love to her right there on the deck which, whilst spectacular, would probably be more sensible if it was tabled, at least until they'd discussed their mutual attraction and hopefully, mutual emotional attachment, Kathryn spotted the packages Seven had brought with her and decided to make small talk for a moment whilst she composed herself with the assistance of several large gulps of coffee. "...what's in the case Seven?"

"A trumpet." Seven delivered this piece of information her usual tone, just as Kathryn had taken a large mouthful of coffee, which was now dripping off Seven's chest.  
  
"You have sprayed me with coffee. Is it unpalatable? I will check your replicator settings..."  
  
"SEVEN!" Kathryn could bear this surrealness no longer.  
  
"Yes Captain?"

"Why have you brought a trumpet to my ready room?"  
  
"I had hoped you could explain it to me."  
  
"Explain what to you?" asked Kathryn wearily, thoroughly regretting her 'grown-up' decision to make small talk rather than mad, passionate love with Seven.  
  
"What 'Blowing my own trumpet' means. I have replicated a trumpet...."

* * *

 

"I now understand the phrase Kathryn..."

"Thought you might..."

"The trumpet is not literal..."

"No, it's not..."

"If I were to report my activities to Tom Paris, I would be 'blowing my own trumpet' would I not?"

"Yes...but..."

"I will not do that to you Kathryn..."

"Thank you darling..."

"Although I do find the concept of producing tuneful melody from this metal tube configuration quite challenging and intriguing..."

"SEVEN!!"

"Yes Kathryn?"

"Do you find orgasms irrelevant darling?"

"No Kathryn."

 "Then please, darling, do not start learning to play the trumpet..."


	6. Eyes Front and Centre

"Enjoy your shore leave Captain," stated the ensign manning the planet side transporter station formally, wondering if the Captain might let slip in conversation where she was going to be taking her leave. Ship scuttlebutt had it that Seven of Nine's bikini was something rather spectacular.....

"I intend to Ensign, thank you," replied Kathryn kindly yet formally, knowing exactly what the young officer was trying to do. It always amazed her how often the younger officers looked disappointed when a senior officer didn't fall for their gentle attempts at finding gossip. What did the ensigns think the senior officers were doing when they were the juniors manning the shore transporter stations?

Smiling at her inner recollections, Janeway strode out across the warm sand, glad she'd transported down with her sandals in her carry bag and not on her feet. Approaching the group of bridge staff, she dropped her bag in front of her before sitting on the vacant spot next to Harry Kim and across from Seven of Nine.

"Captain...." greeted everyone warmly, surprising the redhead. She'd always assumed that becoming Captain would make her crew reluctant to approach or socialise with her, but that was not the case on Voyager...but then stranded in the Delta Quadrant was not exactly Star Fleet's standard mission brief.

"Am I the last?" she asked, looking around and seeing that everyone she'd expected to be there, was. From the Alpha Bridge Shift, Tuvok was the only absentee, preferring to man the Bridge and therefore oversee his security teams whilst the bulk of the crew was planet side.

"Sorry, I guess I was.....you didn't need to wait for me..." began Kathryn, wondering why all the Senior Staff were still gathered around this pile of driftwood which was serving as a useful local landmark on an otherwise endless perfect beach of flawless white sand. Surely they'd have broken off into groups by now?

"We weren't actually Captain...." it was Chakotay who spoke, being elected group spokesman by virtue of rank "...at least, we were because we had decided it might be fun to play volleyball, only we changed our minds, to water polo...."

"Water Polo Chakotay?" queried Kathryn, raising a questioning eyebrow. Whilst it was not unusual for the Senior Staff to engage in a team sport activity at some point during shore leave, it was normally volleyball and definitely land based.

"We thought the sand and sun would make it too hot...playing in the water seemed more sensible..." interrupted Lieutenant Tom Paris quickly, rather pleased with how genuine his reason sounded.

"Fair enough....who are the teams?" asked Kathryn, standing in order to remove her shorts and t-shirt, a move copied by all her officers.

"We thought we'd start guys versus girls..." explained Lieutenant Harry Kim, only to be met with another Janeway glare "...umm, ladies whom we have the pleasure of serving with and who hold higher ranks?" he rephrased, recognising his error. It really didn't work, trying to call Captain Kathryn Janeway a 'girl'.

"Is that fair?" queried Kathryn, trying not to laugh at Harry’s behaviour. He may no longer be an ensign, but he still had moments when she wished to order him to ‘stand at ease before you strain something’. Mentally reviewing the teams....Chakotay, Tom and Harry against B'Elanna, Seven and herself they did appear to be reasonably balanced, in number at least.  
  
"We thought we'd start that way and see what happened. No one was prepared to admit to being an ace at it...." explained B'Elanna, emerging from under her t-shirt to reveal her toned body and skimpy bikini.

"Works for me," declared Kathryn, throwing her own t-shirt aside and heading for the water, glad she'd opted for her one piece suit. 'Whilst that bikini is stunning on B'Elanna, I'm not sure how practical it may be for water sports.....whereas this thing....perhaps not as revealing, but at least I won't fall out of it!" thought Kathryn triumphantly, wading into the water, confident her crew would follow.

"You ready Seven?" asked Tom kindly, knowing that Seven was a little nervous of playing the game.

"I believe so Mr. Paris, I just need to remove my over garments. You are sure I am correctly attired B'Elanna?" checked Seven, her eyes locked on the body of her lover, who was currently having a short swim in the warm sea whilst she waited for their game to begin.

"You're perfect Seven.....just toss your shirt aside and walk in....." declared B'Elanna, holding out her hand in encouragement for the blonde.

"Why are the others not accompanying us?" queried Seven nervously, walking carefully through the breakwater.

"They think the view's better from shore...." explained B'Elanna cryptically, causing Seven to remark

"Interesting. Most males aboard Voyager experience bodily reactions consistent with arousal when viewing me from the front. I fail to see how this garment...." here, Seven waved a hand across her chest, which was currently inside the smallest of blue bikinis "....would alter that situation." Seven's dispassionate logic caused B'Elanna to pause in shock, before laughing at what Seven was really saying.

"Well observed Seven, but actually, they're watching the Captain's reaction...." began B'Elanna, only to be interrupted by the Captain swimming up to them.

"My reaction to what?" she asked, not looking at them at first, but concentrating instead of finding her footing on the sea bed and brushing her wet hair back from her forehead. Finally ready, she turned her head back to look straight at Seven.....at least, straight at the section of Seven which was level with Kathryn's eyes.....which, owing to the uneven sea floor meant Kathryn had a perfect view of her lover's creamy cleavage, with absolutely nothing left to anyone's imagination, apart from the colour of Seven's nipples, which were currently behind two blue triangles of material, a missing detail Kathryn's memory was only too happy to provide.

"Kathryn?" Seven was concerned about her lover's somewhat dazed expression and so, in an attempt to discover what the problem was, leant forwards slightly so as to be nearer to Kathryn's height. Unfortunately, that only made Kathryn's predicament even worse, as she now had a perfect view down said perfect cleavage.....

"Kathryn?" tried Seven again, reaching out towards her lover, only to be covered in water.

"Kathryn!" Seven was panicked, there was no Kathryn in front of her. Instead, about a pace away, B'Elanna was helping someone.

"B'Elanna, what happened?" asked Seven, striding through the water, drops running across her toned thighs and down her breasts.

"She fainted Seven.....she fainted.....but she's coming back, the water helped...." explained B'Elanna, trying not to laugh at her dazed Captain who was once again standing up, but resolutely not looking at her lover.

"Please go and put a shirt on darling...." explained Kathryn quietly, unwilling to look at Seven until she was covered with something more substantial.

"Very well. B'Elanna, you said I was correctly dressed. This garment is offensive to the Captain." Seven was obviously upset, and was about to turn on her heal and march through the water back to shore, only to be stopped by B'Elanna's laughter and Kathryn's groan.

"Seven?"

"Yes Kathryn?" Seven refused to turn her torso around, obviously she was wearing her bikini wrong.

"Your bikini is spectacular, and that's why I need you to put a shirt on....I can't concentrate...." admitted Kathryn quietly, stunning the blonde.

"You like it?"

"Very much...." husked Kathryn, in a tone that Seven's enhanced hearing was all to quick to identify. Satisfied, the Borg set off towards the shore, saying clearly

"I will put on a shirt to play water polo, it would not do for Voyager's Captain to drown," prompting laughter from all the Senior Staff, including B'Elanna.

"B'Elanna, could you make sure Ensigns Paris and Kim understand what will happen if they repeat this little story?"

She may have just fainted at the sight of her Borg enhanced girlfriend in a bikini, but Kathryn Janeway was still a Star Fleet Captain, and somehow, B'Elanna Torres knew this was crunch time.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Excellent, shall we play water polo then?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Challenge: Janeway/Seven (Voyager), Janeway's response, swimming trunks, challenge by @darandkerry


End file.
